Morals of a Storybook
by pastelic-ori
Summary: In this story, sprinkled with children's tales, Alfred and Matthieu are two princes of an English kingdom, sent out by their father on an adventure across the lands. It combines many different elements of fantasy fiction: love, hate, friendship, heroism, cowardism, and family.


"Come on Matt! Can you shoot straight for once in your life?" He gritted his teeth and was tempted to yell back at his brother for being such a fool. He was trying, wasn't he? Insulting him wasn't going to make the arrow fly straighter, but Alfred kept pestering him about it.

The student let the arrow fly, and it stuck sharply into the yellow ring- the one right before the center. He let down his bow and huffed, impressed that he could do it that far, but his brother only laughed.

"Well, it was better than yesterday."

Everyone knew that Alfred was a sharpshooter, he could easily pick off targets from a plain away, yet Matthieu had trouble with it since he wasn't born with the clearest sight. Glasses gave him a small disadvantage in combat, but at least his brains could easily out best his brother's bronze. Matthieu was a skilled magician.

His brother patted him on the back for the effort, even though the embarrassment was infuriating and he never asked for his sympathies. So what if he couldn't shoot an arrow as well as he could? Though he forced himself to take a deep breath, getting angry never solved anything.

They packed up, Alfred slinging the bows behind his back as they walked back to the courtyard to greet Arthur, who had been patiently waiting for them.

The kind had seated himself in a chair, reading a book of interest as they walked up. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that they were finished and come back to reality from the book. "Hello, my dear sons." The king stood and touched their shoulders, giving a half-smile. At least his greeting was pleasant, most of the time it he was met with anger over something mischievous that Alfred had done.

"What do you need, father?" The younger brother spoke, adjusting his glasses in place and readying himself for bad news.

"Oh, nothing serious." The kind read his expression. "I just have a little errand for you."

"And that is?" Alfred shifted his weight, he was already getting impatient.

"No need to fret, I just need something from an old friend of mine." He reached into his overcoat and pulled out a piece of parchment with something scrawled on it in heavy black ink. "This here is a list of talismans from different areas, you will be travelling many places to get them. Taking a considerable amount of time, you will need to pick up each object in order, and then bring them back to me. The first one is," he pointed to the top of the list. "From my friend, a king in another far off land who travels in the Germanic Empire region"

"You mean this is a quest?" Alfred's voice grew excited, for he had waited many years before his father trusted him with something so important. A quest? He turned to Matthieu, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

"Yes, Alfred, my boy, it is a quest." The king sounded like he almost regretted it seeing that Alfred wasn't being very serious about it. "I would hope that you don't screw this up."

"Don't worry father, I'll be with him." Even though he was younger, Matt carried the maturity for the both of them.

"This eases my mind greatly, but be warned, it is not an easy path." Arthur looked at them both gravely. "There are beings in which you haven't seen before, and I ask that you avoid them. There will be those you have to kill for the greater good, and there will be those that seem friendly but will kill you for a single piece of gold."

"I'm sure we will do fine." And with that, the kind almost believed them. He gave a sigh of relief, kissed them both, and sent them off to rest for tomorrow.

"Can you believe it? I never thought Arthur would let me- I mean us, ever go on an adventure!" Alfred leaned back on the stool, already dressed, while his brother laced up his boots. "At least this isn't a diplomatic visit, and we don't have to wear the damn armour!"

Whenever the two princes are sent to another land to speak with royalty, they are always decked out with shiny spaulders and guards, dressed up like an aristocrat's knight. It annoyed the hell out of Alfred and he would often whisper complaints about it to his brother, who suffered in silence. He figured that whining about it wouldn't get it off any faster.

Mathieu sighed at his brother's slouching posture while he tied back his hair. He looked at himself in the mirror that stood on the vanity. Honey coloured hair, well built, long lashes and dark blue eyes. He snorted and looked away.

"What's the matter? Wondering when you'll stop looking like a girl?" Alfred teased.

Matthieu scowled and flicked his fingers, sending Alfred toppling onto the ground.

He sat up and rubbed his head. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being a horse's ass." Matthieu scoffed and turned away. Alfred grumbled a curse at his brother, everyday he was acting more and more like the high and mighty king that was their father. Where was the fun in that?

They were dressed, drilled, and ready to be sent off. The stable provided two fresh horses and a map of all the destinations that they needed to go to, and the king gave his blessings before the brothers found themselves trotting of into the forest, into the unknown.

"Say, why do you think he needs these things?" Alfred had studied the list while they followed along the path. "These are strange requests."

Matthieu did question why they were needed, most of these objects had nothing to do with magical incantations, at least none he was familiar with. Though he quieted his curiosity when he knew that his father was a very powerful magician, and knew much more than his son. "I'm sure he has good reason, Al." And that was all the reassurance he could give.

It was midday when Matt raised a hand to stop his brother. A building lay in front of them, slightly clouded by the sea's fog. Alfred squinted to see it.

"Should we investigate?"

"I don't think we have a choice. I believe," Matt glanced at the map, the red inking flowing west towards the coastline, currently where they were at. "It's marked on the map."

They rode ahead, approaching with a quick trot. Alfred wanted to ride up and demand attention, but Matthieu hushed him and told him to dismount so they wouldn't cause much discord. They tapped lightly on the wooden door of the old house, and opened up was a red-headed man.

"You the king's sons?" He asked, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. It poured out into the air, and his house was very hazy on the inside, showing that he was smoking without an open source of air. Alfred coughed and waved it away, nodding as a response.

"Ah, I was expectin' you. Name's Allistor, come in." He invited them inside with a twirl of his hand, and Matthieu managed to hold his own to the smoke, but his brother had a hard time breathing.

"Sorry for the air, I was enjoying my afternoon tobacco." Allistor cracked open a window, and Alfred made sure to seat himself next to it.

"How do you know our father?" Matt began.

"Well," the man scratched his beard. "He did somethin for me once, ey, and jus' recently came to call in a favour. Considerin' what he did for me, I couldn't refuse."

"And what are you supposed to do for us?"

"Sail you," He paused to blow out his smoke. "Sail you to Lisbourne."

"This was his only instructions to you?"

The man cracked a smile. "You remind me of him, so formal and aristocratic. A bit stuck up, aren't you?"

Matthieu frowned and Alfred started laughing in between in coughs. Did no one conduct themselves accordingly?


End file.
